


I Need My Girl

by saucytuggles



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Hope, Melancholy, Music, No Angst, No Smut, Practice guitar, Slice of Life, Tiger Music, Tora Can't Sing At All
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucytuggles/pseuds/saucytuggles
Summary: Tora practices on his guitar. A little what if, could take place after Episode 48.
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 17
Kudos: 41
Collections: Tiger Bites





	I Need My Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larosamorada85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larosamorada85/gifts).



> This little fic is part of the Tiger Bites collection. I don't think AO3 lets you subscribe to a collection, darn it, but here's the link:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tiger_Bites
> 
> The purpose of the collection is to do tiny, frequent MPL/AB fics to give everybody little shots of Narin to get us through the post-first season MPL hiatus. (See "profile" on the Tiger Bites page.) Also anyone can submit tiny fics to Tiger Bites, so feel free to add one!

Tiger Bites

I Need My Girl

  
A Midnight Poppy Land Tiny Fic by Saucy Tuggles

The air in the stark apartment was cold. Greenish light from the high windows rippled across the ceiling, over the square metal air ducts. Tora felt like he was underwater. His limbs were heavy. He tossed his game controller onto the couch. 

_ Day off my ass. _

Tora had looked forward to this time off for almost two weeks. What was he doing with it now? 

_ Game over, _ the screen said.

He looked around his apartment. His guitar leaned against the wall. He hadn’t even put it in its case. Tora picked it up and sat back on the couch. 

He fished in the couch cushions for his tuner, clipped it to the headstock, and adjusted the tuning keys until the chords sounded true. 

What song had he been practicing before? Right. Tora attached a capo at the third fret. He strummed the chords lightly. A minor, F, C, G. The rhythm came back to him. He moved from the chords to the little riff, practicing, added the small steps on the D string into the next chord. 

_ Keep it simple _ , he thought. The recording had little pulloffs on the left hand, but Tora focused on the right hand, keeping the fingerwork easy and free, over and over, through the changes, A minor, step on 2nd fret, then 3rd fret, release to F, now step on 2nd fret, find C, there, quick step on open D, resolve to G.

_ Okay, let’s add those pulloffs on high E and B _ , he thought.  _ Sounds better.  _

The smooth picking blended the high and low notes, creating a gentle rocking feel. The progression had a biting dissonance, a tension through which melancholy bloomed. A dark opulent sound like a dip into deep water each time the harmony cycled around, around.

He was humming the tune, wildly off-key. He concentrated on his hands, unaware of the words tumbling from his lips. 

“… _ you lost your shit and drove the car into the garden _ …”

Tora’s back bowed over the guitar, head down. His big fingers were light and graceful on the strings, reaching along the neck, straightening, flexing in a relaxed rhythm. The tones vibrated into his chest, his restless heartbeat quieting to match the flowing sounds.

“… _ I know I was a lot of things _ …”

The sound of liquid metal when his finger slid along the strings, the feeling of the wire pressing across the pads of his fingertips. The notes echoing, cascading when he plucked and released the strings. The curve of the wood against his thigh. All of it soothed him, his head tilted to the floor, eyes closed, he swayed. Dark strands of hair fell over his cheeks. He truly was underwater, like seagrass he moved back and forth with the tide of the song. 

“… _ the party, it’s full of punks and cannonballers _ …”

It sounded good. Better than the rapid fire and shouts of his video game. Better than the roar of his car’s twin turbo engine prowling the night streets. Better than the silence of these empty concrete walls. Tora lost himself in the currents of sound. His foot tapped the wooden floor, the muscles in his forearms twisted and leapt, shadow and light playing across his skin as his fingers played. 

“… _ I need my girl, I need my girl _ …”

The song finished. He leaned back, exhaled. The guitar lay across his lap, warm, vibrating. 

His music was ready. He would play it for her one day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Link to live acoustic version of I Need My Girl, by the National.  
> https://youtu.be/2_79sx6V3tU


End file.
